The Warmest Winter....

.....on record, pretty much everywhere. In Sweden I was accused of importing an English one. I understand what they mean. Cold, wet, grey, miserable. At least the grass isn't growing...

...or it wasn't. Time flies. Dark, damp February gave way to a dry March, and a few days that crept above 10C for a couple of hours in the afternoon. Tentatively I started the big spring clear up. An acre generates a lot of dead heading, pruning, trimming, and a lot of leaves and cones.

April and Easter/Pask. Keep at the clear up, friends arriving for the holiday, always a special occasion. Allan & Sue always bring a taste of England with them. Familiar company, conversation and practise with my English language. It may be my mother tongue but it deteriorates without practise. It's the little things that delight. Swamp safari with Allan. Sue had more sense. We found the way out the back of Vitared and onto the old Tidaholm road. It's a long straight dirt road that links dozens of sleepy farmsteads. With early evening sunshine, a joy. No stone chips on Darwin is also a bonus. The lawn, which is what I call it, got it's first cut with the tractor mower before A&S trundled off heading for the airport. There are worse ways to spend 5 hours than cutting grass. Here it only grows for three months of the year, so I am not complaining.

Sanding and oiling woodwork, a lot of it. A workshop roof to repair. Elsa is ready for her last journey with me. Sorry gal, I can hardly look at you, I feel such a traitor. The big red German motorcycle has been my companion on my adventures for 8 years. Irreplaceable?

Two barrels of beer from my micro-micro brewery. All strictly for private consumption. A barrel of IPA for midsommer, and an experimental barrel of Pilsner for later. My decision, it's time to learn to brew lager for my Swedish friends. My decision is a Pilsner brewed to German purity standards. The hops grow in my garden, and the water is spring water. We are blessed that that is what comes out when you turn on a tap here. The process, grains, hops, yeast, temperatures and timings are all different to English real ale. I am expecting it to take 3 attempts or so to produce a convincing Scandinavian Ale.    

Saturday is the big clean up at VMCK camping, ready for the new season. I'm resting a little. That will be a tough day, followed by after work pizza and beer at Lillgarden. The new owner is to be supported for providing us with a "pub". Still miss Anna and her wonderful Swedish food though.

Martin drops off a cart load of fire wood. I'm already stocking up a cart load at a time. I am learning. I used to be shocked by summer wood piles half as big as the house they sat next to. Cold, winter, Sweden. I get it now!